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Modern Scottish Poets, with Biographical and Critical Notices - Third Series
David Herschell Edwards
No preview available - 2007
amang auld bairns bard beauty Blackwood's Magazine blessings bloom bonnie born braes breast breath bright Burns canna cauld clouds Covenanters dark dear death doun dream Dundee e'en e'enin earth Edinburgh fair father flowers frae friends George Gilfillan Glasgow glen glory green ha'e hame happy heart heather heaven Hielan hills hour Hugh Miller hunner ilka iron tail John land lane lassie life's light lo'ed lonely mair maun mind mither mony morn mountain Muse Mysie ne'er neath never night o'er parish poems poet poetic poetry published Robert Burns round sang saumon scenes Scotland Scottish sigh siller sing smile song sorrow soul stream sweet tears thee There's thine Thomas Aird thou thought verses voice wander wave weary weel Whaur wild WILLIAM BURNS yon burnside yon kirkyard young
Page 418 - So here hath been dawning Another blue Day : Think wilt thou let it Slip useless away. Out of Eternity This new Day is born ; Into Eternity, At night, will return. Behold it aforetime No eye ever did : So soon it forever From all eyes is hid. Here hath been dawning Another blue Day : Think wilt thou let it Slip useless away.
Page 417 - THE SOWER'S SONG. NOW hands to seed-sheet, boys, We step and we cast ; old Time's on wing ; And would ye partake of Harvest's joys, The corn must be sown in Spring. Fall gently and still, good corn, Lie warm in thy earthy bed; And stand so yellow some morn, For beast and man must be fed.
Page 105 - HAVE you heard of this question the Doctors among, Whether all living things from a Monad have sprung ? This has lately been said, and it now shall be sung, Which nobody can deny. Not one or two ages sufficed for the feat, It required a few millions the change to complete; But now the thing's done, and it looks rather neat, Which nobody can deny.
Page 206 - No sister e'er hath been to thee with pearly eyes of love; No mother e'er hath wept for thee, an outcast from above; No hand hath come from out the cloud to wash thy scarred face ; No voice to bid thee lie in peace, the noblest of thy race: But bow...
Page 227 - That pure arch seems to be, And as I bless its mystic light. My spirit turns to thee. Thus, gleaming o'er a guilty world, We hail the ray of love ; Thus dawns upon the contrite soul Thy mercy from above ; And as Thy faithful promise speaks Repentant sin forgiven, In humble hope we bless the beam That points the way to Heaven.
Page 418 - The son of six thousand golden sires: All these on thy kindly breast were born; One more thy poor child requires. Fall gently and still, good corn, Lie warm in thy earthy bed; And stand so yellow some mom, For beast and man must be fed.
Page 21 - For ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew. Gin reft frae friends or crost in love, as whiles, nae doubt ye've been, Grief lies deep hidden in your heart, or tears flow frae your een, Believe it for the best, and trow there's good in store for you, For ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o
Page 104 - Your toil and pain will all be vain, To try to milk the bull, sir; If forth you jog to shear the hog, You'll get more cry than wool, sir. 'Twould task your hand to sow the sand, Or shave a chin that's bare, sir; You cannot strip a Highland hip Of what it does not wear, sir.
Page 205 - Silence guards the coast, ere thrill her everlasting bars. No sun here shines on wanton isles ; but o'er the burning sheet A rim of restless halo shakes, which marks the internal heat, As, in the days of beauteous earth, we see with dazzled sight The red and setting sun o'erflow with rings of welling light. Oh ! here in dread abeyance lurks of uncreated things The last lake of God's wrath, where He His first great enemy brings. Deep in the bosom of the gulf the fiend was made to stay, Till, as it...
Page 205 - T is but the eye's bewildered sense that fain would rest on form, And make night's thick blind presence to created shapes conform. No stone is moved on mountain here by creeping creature crossed, No lonely harper comes to harp upon this fiery coast; Here all is solemn idleness; no music here, no jars, Where silence guards the coast ere thrill her everlasting bars; No sun here shines on wanton isles; but o'er the burning sheet A rim of restless halo shakes, which marks the internal heat; As in the...